A Winter's Ball: A Kiko fanfiction
by artemisianfire
Summary: Kinney and Iko finally get together. He doesn't stop being a jerk, however, and I am eternally frustrated I did not change this fact.


Iko stared at Kinney's drunken figure and tried remembering how she'd gotten in this situation.

She'd been at the Winter's Ball, her beautiful blue dress draped over her shoulders, and her hair swirled in an up-do–something that had taken her only an hour to perfect. Her shoes high-heeled and complimenting her shimmering dark skin, Iko was pretty sure she'd find a dance partner in no time. Cinder had even said it, and stars knew she didn't just dole out compliments like cheap lip gloss samples.

So Iko had been a bit…well, disappointed, when she hadn't received the reaction she'd wanted. From someone specific. Someone lying intoxicated in front of her right now.

Iko thanked the stars for the millionth time androids couldn't get drunk.

She poked at his side with the tips of her high heeled toes, hoping for a response. A stir.

Nothing.

Sighing, Iko wished, another futile wish, that she hadn't taunted him into drinking that wine.

Stars, she made stupid mistakes. She had definitely abused her power, she was sure. Using her title to make Kinney loosen up was a good intention, but…

Iko leaned forward and shook him. Nothing. Again.

Humans got drunk way too easily.

For a moment, she let her thoughts drift back to an hour ago, when Liam–Kinney–had still been conscious. As in, able to walk. And speak. And…kiss androids who were unbelievably in love with the notion of love and would really do anything to get a kiss from anyone but the particular guard who was now being dragged out of the ballroom by said android.

Iko blew the loose hairs off her forehead impatiently, for lack of nothing better to do with such a heated thought process going through her head. Aces, arguments with herself were the worst. Her annoyingly smart computer brain always found a counter argument to everything.

Still, even with these thoughts raging in her mind…Iko had to admit the kiss hadn't been that bad. Not nearly as good a first kiss as net dramas made them out to be, but Kinney was a good kisser.

It would've probably been better if he hadn't been drunk, she thought. And arguably, there is also the fact that I despise him.

She shook the thoughts away, shook away the memories of how she'd taunted him, how he'd downed the entire glass without a twitch, how he'd collapsed, how she'd been too soft to leave him lying there.. And how, when she'd been pulling him into a chair, he'd woken up and suddenly seemed to be aware of their closeness. Of her presence. And then his lips on hers.

Iko didn't know how lips were supposed to feel. Not without human nerves. Yet somehow, in all that, she'd felt a burning connection.

Iko brushed away the thoughts–which were whizzing in her vision like little butterflies, fleeting as they were–again, and lightly tapped Kinney's side testingly. His chest was rising up and down with peaceful breaths, and her movements didn't jar him at all.

Hesitating, wincing with the strain, she dragged him into the hallway.

* * *

Kinney woke with a raging headache and bad temper.

Stars. What happened last night?

He couldn't recall drinking anything.

* * *

He decided it was nothing after the headache lifted in a couple hours. It was gone now. Not a problem anymore.

That wasn't.

But what about the cause?

He cursed.

"Nice way to waste a day."

Carswell Thorne–someone he hated day after day for reasons he couldn't even begin to pinpoint–laughed. "Nice way to waste the day you have a hangover, yeah. You need it," he added, clapping his back. Liam tensed, his shoulders rising to his ears consciously. Thorne was heading away when he paused, a smile once again rising to his lips. Mischievous this time.

"You'd better look at the records from last night. 8-9, particularly. They're…ah, pretty interesting." Then he breezed away, already in the room at the end of the hall before Kinney could open his mouth to object.

Liam sighed, running a hand through his hair with lack of nothing better to do. Curses, security-cam monitoring? He didn't have time for this.

He headed for the monitors nevertheless.

Monitoring records was ridiculous. It was mindless work, something they rarely did unless something of special occurrence had happened recently. But yesterday had been the ball. There was nothing else there except nobles being less decent than per usual.

He reached the cam room and sighed, looking around the isolated room with a single spinning chair in the middle of a circle of cameras and screens. Stars. He didn't belong here.

Closing the door, Kinney stalked to the chair and sat down, reaching out for a screen and scrolling back several hours to last night. The Winter's Ball. From camera 8-9.

Preparing himself for an hour of boredom, he exhaled annoyingly through his nose and pressed play.

Nothing happened at first. At least, nothing of interest. He saw Her Majesty, the Queen, pass by the camera with Mademoiselle Benoit several times, but no one else he knew. It was a battle trying to stay awake, just as he thought.

Then she rushed onto the screen, in a gorgeous blue dress that flowed on the ballroom floor. Her bouncing curls framing her shining face. Her elegant arms stretched out as she motioned excitedly around the ballroom, pointing things out for the person at her arm. And then she leaned towards him.

Or rather, the particular guard at her arm. Jacin Clay.

Kinney tensed forward, wanting to pause the screen, but he was too late.

It was horrible, and painful, and everything else.

Princess Winter pulled away from the kiss, cradling Jacin's arm in hers, and smiled warmly at him. A smile that, even through a screen, was as gorgeous as in real life. And then, as if a kiss from the most beautiful princess in the world was nothing, she pulled him along.

Liam felt as if he'd been stabbed a million times.

And he wanted to do the same to Carswell Thorne. Was this his idea of comedy? Was this what he had wanted him to see?

Well, he was done. He was done with chasing after a princess who would never love him, hating a guard who had everything he wanted, hating everything.

Kinney was about to turn off the screen for good when something caught his eye. Himself, leaning against the wall. Bored, spiteful. But something else. A familiar figure beside him, also in the shadows, but in a dress so bright that even the darkness couldn't contain it.

A bright blue dress. Tightly braided hair. Hands on her hips, glaring at him in a way that rivaled even his.

His interest spiked, he settled down to watch the rest.

* * *

So, last night had been…different.

Iko didn't know how to drown her feelings. Everything felt so painful. Thinking about it, doing something about it, looking at the pretty dress she'd worn yesterday.

So, she might like him. A little.

Or a lot.

Or maybe her thoughts were just muddled from that kiss. Hours later.

Whatever, she thought. It doesn't matter.

Thinking this felt so unfamiliar.

She sighed, forcing her thoughts away, back to the pile of shopping at her feet. AR-4 had a very large collection, and she wasn't even halfway through all the shops yet, despite the large selection of bags she now harbored.

She drowned her feelings as she grabbed the whole rack of dresses and forced them into her basket.

* * *

Kinney ran, ran out the front doors and through the garden and past the guards, not even bothering to say a hello. He ran, because it was the only thing he knew to do at a moment like this.

If he knew her enough, she would be exactly where he was headed.

And stars, he knew her. Knew every color her eyes turned, knew every time when she would smile, knew her like someone who stared at her often would know her.

He hadn't realized he'd been collecting all these thoughts until he'd seen it, on the screen in front of him.

But the question was, did she know him?

* * *

Iko pulled a fifth bag on her shoulder. Next shop, she thought, even while she knew that her feelings would not be shaken so easily.

Kinney ran into the shopping complex, his heart in his throat.

There was a threadware shop on the next corner. Maybe she'd try that next. Better than wandering with a broken heart.

* * *

Kinney couldn't find her fast enough, catching glimpses of blue braids as they whipped out of sight.

He finally found her in a large boutique, dresses scattered around her. Shoes piled up atop her feet.

* * *

She didn't notice him there until she turned to catch sight of herself in the mirror. Her eyes were tense, focused, her mind entirely on the situation at hand.

* * *

Kinney cleared his throat.

Her eyes shot to him.

With a step forward, Kinney felt the first sign of true nerves. He brushed it away, away, because he couldn't miss this. Couldn't miss her.

He was ready to let go. Ready to let go of Winter and loss and broken dreams.

Now it was only up to her to answer him.

"I think I'm in love with you."


End file.
